


A Stumble Into Svartalfheim Was Only Your First Mistake

by gladheonsleeps



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: ABO, ABOish, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, BAMF Darcy Lewis, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Darcy Lewis is in over her head, Dark Elves, Elves, I'm going to try hard but there might still be a big of, Legolas confused face, Legolas stumbles into some trouble, Mildly Dubious Consent, Other, Weird Biology, Wood Elves, confused Darcy more than, crack ship, ish, poly ship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-05-23 04:58:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6105655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gladheonsleeps/pseuds/gladheonsleeps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Legolas Greenleaf was in a hunting party when the spiders they were pursuing escaped through a window in the worlds. As he steps through to pursue his foe he stumbles into a kidnapping and meets up with an old friend that he never thought he would see again. </p><p>Locked out of his realm with an injured damsel he is left to travel around the long way with a friend who is much changed since they last met.</p><p>or Darcy Lewis trips over and ends up in a lot of trouble. With bonus grumpy injured god and a sexy lost elf (cue confused Legolas face).</p><p>Takes place during and after the convergence. AOU doesn't happen, and though CA:TWS does we won't see any of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey kittens! I posted a thing. It will be updated intermittently in tiny bite sized pieces probably.

Legolas Greenleaf was out hunting with a small party when the spiders overtook them. They had been out for a number of days and were in pursuit of Spiders reported in the area. It was in the midst of battle with one such of the creatures when a great hole opened up like a window to another land. To the Elves’ dismay, the creature disappeared into the void. The group looked to him as their Prince and also as the member of their group who had travelled the furthest and fought the grimmest battles. He did not know if the residents of this other world would be able to best a Spider; furthermore he had seen this particular one was due to lay eggs shortly, multiplying the need for a swift kill.  He took a pack offered to him from his aide and strapped on his sword, grateful he had brought it with him in this endeavour. Turning to his second he ordered them to keep watch until the window closed or he hadn’t returned within three days. With one last breath of woodland air, Legolas Greenleaf leapt through the void, following his prey into the unknown.

...

Darcy Lewis was in some pretty deep shit. She wasn’t entirely sure how it all happened exactly, but she knew she wasn’t in Kansas anymore- or rather Greenwich. And judging by the way it was so hard to breathe and the way gravity seemed to be turned up a notch or three, she supposed she might not even be on Earth any longer. She groaned as she sat carefully from where she had tripped sideways through an anomaly in Greenwich to avoid some techno elves and ended up falling a few yards into a hillside of sleet, which of course decided to spill her all the way down.  She didn’t think anything was broken, but she definitely had an unfortunate sprain in her ankle.

That wasn’t the worst part though. The worst part was that three of the creepy elves had followed her through, and were seeking her out. She had no idea what those masks were for, but as she slipped behind a nearby boulder she prayed that tech wasn’t for heat signatures.

...

Loki lay on the black grit of Svartalfheim. His sporadic grunts of pain were lost in the howling wind, the sand and ash piling about him and filling the wound the monster had given him. It was a through and through, and his attacker hadn’t exactly been gentle. Though it would take far more than this to kill Loki Silvertongue –the oaf should have known that truth better by now- it was a damn sight more painful than a simple flesh wound, and the sand storm he had been left to die in wasn’t helping. Perhaps Thor had been telling the truth after all, if he had been so quick to leave him to bleed out in the elements. He lay taking shallow breaths, his magic trickling into the wound, making the most vital repairs that he could; enough so that he could move. It was delicate work, and he was sure to do it well the first time as he wasn’t sure when next he would have the time to repair. And so stayed perfectly still, his awareness centred on his lungs and inner workings as the sand piled higher and higher over him.

He knew not how long it had been when the wind died down a little and Loki heard sounds which could only be made by other life forms in the distance. He doubled his efforts on his wounds, making sure not to make a sound, grateful now that he was surely all but hidden under the pile of grit the wind had deposited on him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki stumbles into Legolas and Darcy stumbles into ... something else ...

Darcy was pretty sure she could hear them coming closer towards her. Their strange Space!Elf conversation was far heavier and harsher than she thought elves would sound like and it was getting louder. She bit off a curse twisting her scarf in her hands, wondering what Jane would do in this circumstance. These things didn’t tend to happen to Darcy, the _hero_ stuff; she always had two feet planted squarely on the ground and was always waiting for Jane to get back from whatever planet she had floated off too. Darcy bit back a sigh. That used to be metaphorical too until Thor with the godly assbutt had arrived. But even then she had managed to stay pretty level headed and very alive but now chances of that continuing were greatly diminished.

Sure, she’d watched every Dr Who episode, All of the Star Wars and Star Trek, all of the Aliens movies (plus the prequel), Starship Troopers (totally underrated if you asked her); Red Dwarf and Firefly too, but that was science  _fiction_ and this was terrifyingly real Science _Fact_. She felt a little dizzy and remembered to take a breath. She didn’t know what the techno elves would do when they found her but she was female enough to know in her gut that it couldn’t be good. She pulled up her coat hood over her hair and thanked Thor she had worn her grey coat instead of the red one today. This would have ended pretty soon if that had been the case. She slowly rose above the boulder checking out their position in the low light of whichever planet this was. The elves were close, but they had their backs to her while caught up in an argument over something. One apparently didn’t agree with the other two. She had no idea what they were fighting over, and she didn’t care. This was the perfect time to get out of their reach. She carefully turned around and prepared to make a move but froze. While she'd been creeping on the Space!Elves something else had been creeping oh her, and this thing took the cake and ate it too in the creep factor, Darcy whimpered at what she saw and backed up against the rock with her breath catching in terror.  

...

Legolas had been on many hunts and longer journeys, fought in many battles and had been on the winning side of a few wars. Even among the Elves of his home, though he was considered a little eccentric, he was also known to be brave and steady in even the most trying of circumstances. Stepping through the third portal in as many hours however was trying even for him; or mayhap he was just a little worn out from an altercation with a cave troll of one of the other worlds.

It was a little embarrassing, really, how the spiders had evaded him so long. They weren’t the _most_ intelligent of creatures, and he’d been hunting them for well over a thousand years but now they had found a world which would be a perfect habitat for the creatures. It was dark, and there were many caves for them to burrow in. If left alone, this place would be overtaken before long. He wasn’t naturally a spiteful elf, but he couldn’t let his old enemies thrive so even in another’s realm. He crept down a slope, careful not to slip on the loose slate when he heard what was unmistakably a mortal woman’s scream.

His head swung toward the sound and let loose his knocked arrow, hitting a spider through the back of the head. As he loaded another he saw a second spider violently shake and fall backwards. Legolas moved fast, making sure to kill them all before they escaped. Finally, he finished off the last, but as he crept towards their victim he saw with a frown that she had already disappeared.

He crouched by the rock and saw that she had been dragged away by three two legged creatures. He stared, bemused at the footprints in the black sand. They looked, for the all the worlds like the footprints of elves. Light and barely there. His pondering was interrupted by a surprised call over his shoulder.

 _“Legolas?”_ The elf turned, and his eyed widened in stunned disbelief.

...

Loki winced when he heard the woman scream. He knew more than anyone that he wasn’t a _good_ man. He was capable of a great many things depending on the mood and had ever been a mercurial being, known for both acts of kindness and violence alike. He supposed lately it was more of the latter as circumstances had dictated extremes. But then, as with Thor’s woman hours before, he could only respond when he heard the wretched cry in the distance. He slowly pulled his consciousness back and sent out an invisible double and what he saw surprised even him- and _he_ was chaos personified. _"Legolas?"_  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listening to the Smashing Pumpkins after a very long while. I first listened to Adore while reading the Obernewtyn Chronicles a million years ago and wholly associate it in my mind with mental powers and horses. Anyone else read those books in high school? they're a totally different post-apopolyptic YA series before the Hunger Games and whatever else. It's pre Harry Potter for me, and holds the kind of place in my heart.
> 
> Anyway so I was getting all nostalgic for my bookish teenage-hood with red wine when I found out Isobelle Carmody has at long last finished her _final fucking book_ of that series. It has taken so, so long (the first one was published in 1987* but I didn't read it till 98) and each book has been fatter than the last. Anyway Bye for now, I'll be over here finding out what all those god damn motherfucking prophesies were about.  
>  *edited from 1993


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy plays what would Zoe Washburne do, and the boys get reacquainted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey kitten! So there are some *possible triggers* and *squicks* that might be coming into play during the rest of ths fic. I discuss them in the note at the very bottom of this chapter. If body horror/medical shit is a squick or if rapey things are a trigger I would skip down there to read up on that shit. I go pretty light on, because let's be honest: they are squicks of mine too so check it out and read up on it, look after yourself kitten! Darcy, Legolas and grumpy Loki will be here if you choose to scroll on back up. If not, it was fun while it lasted and I'll see you on the flip. The warning contains spoilers but if we're all honest here suspense isn't my strongest suit anyway. *shrugs*

Darcy woke with a feeling of falling in total enveloping darkness. Panic rose wild within her, her own whimpers disappearing into the dark as she bit her lip, seeking to ground herself. As anxiety continued to rise she tried to think of all those heroes she’d spent so much time with. She thought of Zoe Washburne, Ripley and Sarah Connor, trying to think of what they would do instead of panic, managing to quell it for a while. Zoe would exchange quips with Mal so that was out. Ripley and Sarah then...As she tasted her own blood she was brought back to herself and she concentrated. She tried to count the things she could feel, cataloguing sensations where she could. 1. She was warm. Not hot but- there was none of the wind that had been howling about and tearing at her hair before. 2. Instead of the almost asphalt smell of before everything smelled cleaner to the point of being sterile. She could smell nothing, so she assumed that she had been taken somewhere inside. If she could move she would have shuddered as she remembered what had happened. She was pretty sure the elves had stolen her from the actual personification of her nightmares (the nights where she didn’t dream of giant flame throwing robots) made real. Ron Weasly wasn’t the only one scared of that shit...was it personification if it was spiders? She wondered, distracting herself as she tried to mover her fingers. The spider had stung her in the leg just before she hit the trigger on her taser, so she had no idea what had happened after that. She was pretty relieved that she was alive, though she wondered what something was called when it was too scary for even your nightmares. If that was a thing, then being captured by creepy Dark Elves on a foreign planet, brought to their evil lair and being unable to move due to Giant!Spider venom was totally it. Her eyes finally obeyed her brain and they fluttered open.

It was dark. On reflection Jane had been babbling about all encompassing darkness and so it shouldn’t have been a surprise. Darcy pulled a face into the dark. The stories she’d read about elves were all about light. The light of the moon, singing in the light of the stars, dancing among the trees, that kind of thing. She had no idea how these elves liked the dark so much. Seemed wrong somehow. But then they kind of did want to destroy everything so she guessed they weren't the happiest of elves anyway.

She heard voices coming toward her and closed her eyes, not ready to meet her captors just yet.

.........

“ _Palurin_ _Raanedir_? Lopt?” Legolas asked incredulously. He smiled and looked around. “Surely this is not the great, shining, golden Asgard that you bragged about so often in our youth?”

Loki shook his head with a chuckle, his long hair shaking out with the movement. Legolas went to hug his friend of old but stopped when the other man raised a hand. His voice was soft and his expression was just as bewildered as Legolas felt. He waved down the length of his body. “This is an apparition, my actual body is elsewhere. Legolas how did you come to be here?”

“I traveled in pursuit of this prey.” He said as he pulled one of his arrows from a carcass. If he was going to stay and talk he might as while preserve his weapons. “Through a window in the worlds.” He frowned at the sky where the doorway had apparently closed while he was distracted. “And I have no way of getting back.” He went about collecting the rest of his arrows, not knowing when he would get home or how many foes he would face before then.

The World Wanderer’s eyebrows moved in curiosity, his face folded in thought as they so often did when the two were acquainted, so many years ago. “So the Tenth Realm was affected by the convergence? Interesting.” He muttered, and Legolas shrugged. He had been aware, through Lopt’s appearance on Middle Earth centuries before that there were realms other than his own -another reason why he chose to be the one who followed the spiders. But he wasn’t sure exactly _how_ they were all connected. Something about dimensions and universes which he wasn’t schooled enough in to tell the difference. All he knew was that Middle Earth was apparently near-impossible to find or travel to, which made it safer, in Lopt’s opinion. Safe from what, Legolas didn’t know, though he supposed this journey would be revealing on that front at least. He turned back to the strange tracks.

“Are there _eldar_ , in the other realms? These look like elf tracks.” He pointed and Lopt wandered over.

With nary a glance the wanderer nodded. “Yes. Midgard used to have them, but they have all took the great sleep if I understand it right, leaving two realms with Elves other than your own. The residents of this ugly rock are the Dark Elves. They are old _. So much_ older than you and your own. Be wary.” He turned to look into the distance where a cliff face rose into the grey clouds. “They took the woman? The one who screamed?” Legolas nodded. “Well I’ll accompany you, for you’ll have need of a guide. Be alert, their weapons far outweigh your own.”

Legolas nodded, stowing his arrows. The two set off towards some caves over the way. Lopt kept looking back, and Legolas raised an eyebrow. “Just making sure my body can’t be seen.” He smiled thinly.

Legolas looked out at the stretch of dust and rock and could not see a body anywhere. He squinted, spotting a pile of sand that could possibly be in Lopt’s dimensions in the far distance. He frowned. “Why are you out here?”

Lopt’s sigh was that of a man exhausted. “There was a battle, and I was gravely injured in the course of killing a berserker, abandoned by my brother so that he might save the worlds and claim his prize.” His expression was haunted for a moment before he looked away, shuttering off whatever was there. “I am currently healing. It’s best to stay there for the time being; moving will just open everything up again.” He pulled a face, clearly hating his own weakness, no matter that it was well earned.

Legolas gave him a look he generally reserved for stupid mortals. “I have supplies. I could help.”

Lopt shook his head sharply. “If this woman was taken by those creatures and not killed outright then I fear they have less then savoury purposes for her. We should hasten.”

Legolas nodded, but he didn’t like the idea of leaving his friend injured and alone on that black plain. He did know well Lopt’s strength, he would hold till such a time as he could return. They moved off, following the other elves’ tracks, Lopt’s apparition fading in and out to preserve energy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note about the language Legolas uses: I stitched together some phrases from this phrase book [here](http://www.dragons-inn.org/Ifreann/Tynntangial/eng_elf.html). The name Legolas calls Loki translates as far as my limited lingual skills are concerned to 'World Wandering Man' so... yeah. apologies to any Tolkien fanatics who have better understanding of the language and if it's terrible feel free to hit me up with a correction. Legolas also refers to Loki as Lopt, because that is the name Loki went by in his travels in the past. Dude gets into a lot of trouble, so pseudonyms are a thing.
> 
> Also if you're a Tolkien fan I'm sorry, timelines in this story would be fucked. Legloas has probably realistically sailed by now and the spiders should be extinct now that the dirty old ring of power is destroyed, the Witch King dead and Mordor beaten but whatever, this is crackfic, which means canon details like that don't really come into play. I play it fast and loose with canon at the best of times. You have been warned. 
> 
> **SQUICK WARNINGS AND TRIGGERS**  
> OK team, gather round. So I go pretty lightly here, I don't often tend to dwell on the icky bits in fics. If you've read my shit before you know I'd much prefer to discuss what Darcy is wearing or how the trees smell than detail blood and gore. BUT Darcy _did_ just get kidnapped, that is a thing. Just a heads up for a squick warning: the Dark Elves are going to do some things to Darcy's body against her will that changes her body and would eventually end in traumatic rape and forced pregnancy. That is a thing that isn't going to happen, thanks to our heroic elf friend and our anti-heroic frost giant friend but from here on out that _will_ effect how the story pans out. So mild body horror and rapey actions is a thing. Rape is not. Any and all sex that Darcy has is going to be consented to because I'm super duper into enthusiastic consent, and this is the closest I can get to the whole ABO stuff without squicking out. Don't get me wrong, I've read and thoroughly enjoyed so many ABO fics but writing and reading are different things and this is the only way my wonky brain let me do it... which is sort of interesting because what is worse? Being born an omega and knowing how your body works or having your biology forcibly changed like in this scenario? Probably the latter. Brains are funny things. Anyway, good chat. Carry on, or don't, it's your decision and I totally respect that  <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy meet Dark Elves. Legolas meet your ancestors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I tend to play it fast and loose with what exactly it is I write fan fiction _of_ , exactly, the Dark Elves are a sort of mix between the BAMF Christopher Eccleston and his army of The Dark World and those from the Thor comics which, admittedly I only saw pictures of online. In the comics (I think?) these baddies are a very dark blue which is sick. Dark doesn't mean bad, but the blue skin of the comics was too pretty to let go once I saw it. So that's a thing.
> 
> Also professor Loki. That's totally a thing here.

Darcy was in agony as her nervous system came awake. The spider’s poison was finally wearing off and she was having the worst case of pins and needles she’d ever experienced in her life. More like knives and scalpels. She tasted blood from where she had bitten down hard on her lip and there were surely crescent shaped cuts in her hands from clutching them into fists before stretching them again, trying to get blood to flow through the tight restraints that held her in place. The elves kept popping in and out, chattering excitedly in their language. That one guy seemed to still be in disagreement though, following them around and arguing with a harsh voice while the other two moved around, the tinkle of glass and metal and stone sounding out abstractly in the dark. She closed her eyes again.

Someone kept checking her pulse and shaking her, and she slowly came more and more awake with the prodding. Eventually her eyes flew open and she recognised the one who had been arguing with the other two before the spiders attacked. He gave her something to drink, whispering something in his crazy language. The liquid was clear but it tasted something like midnight would taste... but not in a bad way, in fact it made her feel a little more clearheaded and a little hopeful. She pulled a face to show that she didn’t know what he was saying, but it was apparently urgent if his frustration was anything to go by. She got the feeling he was younger than the other two –Though she was aware that term was relative here.  He would have to be older than old, if Thor had been right about them sleeping for _three thousand_ years. She tried not to think about that too much because this was no place to have her mind blown. The technological advance alone was enough to break her brain.

Elf guy had taken off his creepy mask and strange ear armour and Darcy was taken aback by his beauty, for all his presence filled her with a dread born on an instinctual level; being completely aware that in this scenario he was the natural predator and she was without any doubt the prey animal. But yes, he was beautiful. His skin looked to be pitch black, not in a melanin-rich African way but in a blue-black way. In fact, in this barest of light that was available she saw that it was in fact a deep midnight blue in pigment. His hair was pristinely white, without any pigment at all and the contrasts were striking. Their armour and masks with the false ears had made the beings seem rather goblin-like, but without they were incredibly gorgeous beings.

That didn’t stop them from being utterly terrifying though.

She was startled out of her reverie as the other two stormed into the room with another, new elf, who was creepier than all of them combined. Whoever they were and wherever the fuck they had come from they had on a golden mask and she shivered as he came towards her. He walked stiffly and Darcy wondered if he’d just been ‘woken up’. If that was the case then how many were left of their species? Turns out old Odin was a little off his game when he was saying that they were all gone. Talk about propaganda gone wrong, you're not supposed to believe your own con. He was going to be _pissed_ when he found out that there were _still_ Dark Elves running around kidnapping innocent people.

She wondered if that Heimlich guy could see her here or whether she was stuck on her own but was distracted when the golden masked elf stepped over to the bed she was lying on. The guy who’d given her the drink stood in front of her protectively but was shoved out of the way. They were all shouting and Darcy continued to wiggle her toes and fingers, hoping her body would be fully awake soon, because even though she wasn’t Sigourney Weaver or Gina Torres or anything she definitely wasn’t planning on staying here. If she found an opportunity, she was going to get the hell out of creepy elf town.

Darcy gasped as her arm was grabbed and there was a sharp prick in her elbow. Darcy whipped her head around and watched the golden one inject something that - well it didn’t glow it _opposite_ of glowed, even in the muddy half light- into her body with wide eyes. “What the fuck?” she asked, voice dry. “ _What the fuck did you just put in me?_ ” She hissed as she tried to move but they had bound her to the table. The gold dude was saying something in a tone that brooked no argument. Darcy stilled and swallowed back tears, hoping it wasn’t anything too dangerous as her consciousness grew dark with the speed of a freight train once again.

...

Legolas listened as Lopt filled him in on this ancient elvan civilization and their most recent history and felt chilled to his core. Apparently these were his forefathers. He couldn’t understand how children of the light had come from the dark. The caves were outfitted with technology far beyond Legolas’ understanding, and felt, down to Legolas’ core, as if nothing was living in here. He had no idea how these elves ate or survived for the planet seemed devoid of starlight, moonlight or sunlight. there was no magic or any other way for an elf to survive. They made their way down, down, always down and he was more uncomfortable than he had been in any Dwarven crafted underground cavern, or even the place of the dead he had been with Aragorn during the War of the Ring.

Eventually they found the four they had been pursuing. Legolas stood quietly outside while Lopt stalked in, disappearing as he went. Legolas blinked. He wasn’t all too fond of people disappearing since Bilbo and his wretched trinket. Lopt, he knew, had learned the skill the hard way, not relying on some spelled object, but it made Legolas uncomfortable all the same.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dark Elves do science without Darcy's consent.

Darcy opened her eyes once more with a pained moan, the pins and needles replaced with a high temperature and nausea. Sweat trickled down her temple into her hair as she looked round and saw the least friendly/most utterly terrifying of the guys had his back to her. As her eyes, now amazingly adjusted to the lack of light drifted down to her body she saw that they had changed her out of her coat and leggings too, and she was in a finely woven black tunic with _nothing_ else. She knew this because the fabric was the lightest and softest she had ever touched. If she didn’t see it with her eyes, dark against her pale skin she would think that she was totally naked. She shuddered. It was in no way a reassuring feeling despite the relief in her current fevered state. She had never felt so violated or utterly unsafe in her life. Her ankle was bound in a bandage and as she curled her toes and extended her feet in a stretch she realised belatedly that it didn’t hurt, like, at all. She wondered if the spider venom had something to do with it or whether it was that icky serum they had injected her with. Her thoughts were groggy and she tasted something gross in the back of her throat. The clamminess was disgusting and her limbs were heavy in all she felt fucked.

As let her head fall back and her eyes drifted over the room, she noticed a shadow that was darker than the others in the corner. She carefully looked to see that the creep elf still had his back turned and narrowed her eyes at the corner when something flickered. She closed her eyes then opened them, and she pressed her wounded lips together to prevent herself from making a sound as her brain clicked and recognised the vaguely familiar form. There, holding his finger to his lips was Thor’s crazy brother _Loki Motherfucking Odinson_. She bit back a whimper and mouthed ‘help me’ her eyes begging him with everything she had. He nodded, and made the ‘Shh’ motion again, looking back to the elf.  Whatever Thor’s brother was there for, he obviously found because he disappeared, leaving Darcy behind, still alone, bound and terrified. She bit her lip as it trembled; wondering if that had even been real- though why she would be dreaming up Loki and not his far shinier and heroic brother was something to ponder... Wait, wasn’t he supposed to be _dead_? She whimpered aloud this time, wondering why she was seeing ghosts.

The elf twirled round, his hair fanning out behind him and his eyes flashing creepy silver with a pitch black pupil, so small even in the dim light. She swallowed, not wishing for any of _his_ attention as she knew where that lead. He checked her pulse and picked up another syringe, this one glowing silver ominously. She hated this. How did she get here? She wriggled with in her binds, trying to get away but it was useless. These had been made for far stronger species than a squishy human and she was caught. She felt a sting as the needle found her vein and whimpered, hating feeling so helpless. At this point she was almost wishing they had left her with the spiders.

...

Loki watched invisibly as the Dark Elf injected the mortal woman with a third potion. His mouth formed a line. He wasn’t certain what they were treating her with, but there were two reasons to keep a female around at this juncture. Either they were expecting her to be rescued and were forming her into a weapon in revenge for Thor and his woman, or they were intent on saving their race from extinction, stooping even to mate with mortals -so different from their own race in their need. Judging by their near tender treatment of such a lesser species he feared the latter. Considering Elves’ biology and the conditions necessary for mating in their race, he felt sick at the thought of what was to come for the girl. He disappeared from the room and returned to his old friend from Middle Earth, hoping Legolas was up to the task of taking on multiple of his far more perilous forebears.

The Wood Elf was still hidden in a dark hallway, his cloak making him nearly invisible as he stood still against the wall. He approached and prepared to walk him through, thinking about how someone who was so far behind technologically would cope with four Dark Elves. And Loki was still trying to figure out where the fourth had come from. Could there be more down here in stasis as there had been in their ships? He shuddered at the thought. “Legolas. This is what I suggest you do-”

He was distracted by the sound of an almighty crash within the chambers he had just exited. Legolas smoothly drew his twin long-knives from their sheathe at his back as one of their enemies rushed towards them, the woman in his arms. His eyes widened in surprise. What-?

 _“You must take her before it is too late.”_ His voice was deep and his tone was solemn.

Loki’s AllSpeak of course enabled him to know what the creature was saying. Surprisingly, Legolas also understood. “ _How can I trust you?”_ He asked in his own most ancient tongue.

The monster looked exhausted. _“I am_ so _old._ We _are old. The universe has moved on and changed. It is not worth doing such evil to preserve that which is already ended.”_  He looked so tired and mournful that it even stirred something in Loki’s cold heart. The Dark Elf shoved the woman into a startled Legolas’ arms, deftly avoiding his blades and pushed the pair back. _“You must go, child. GO._ ” He turned smoothly and fired a weapon at one of his kinsmen who had been in pursuit. Legolas turned obediently and started running, managing to carry the girl while maintaining a grip on his knives in his haste but Loki remained to witness as their unexpected hero was ploughed down by this comrade’s weapon. He heard him utter _“Cling to the light.”_ Before his form crumpled to the ground. Loki brought his apparition into physical form enough to use the elf’s weapons to collapse the hallway behind Legolas in order to buy his friend more time.

Wincing in pain and woozy with exertion he drew all consciousness back into his damaged body.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A delirious Darcy meet Legolas. We know, Darcy, we know: He's really pretty... And while we're at it let's get the fuck off of this rock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sick of Svartalfheim. Loki couldn't agree more. Let's blow this popsicle stand.

When Darcy came to once more the first thing she recognised was movement, before realising she was being carried. One large hand was firmly holding her, long fingers splayed on her thigh just below her ass, and another was gripping her shoulder. The person was strong, but not rough, holding her tighly to avoid too much movement as they ran. She opened her eyes and closed them again quickly when she realised just how fast they were moving. The dizziness had lessened a little but not enough for that shit. The hands adjusted and her head was brought to rest on a strong shoulder. She smelled moss, conifer and leather and she nuzzled in, hoping she wasn’t dreaming and that wherever they were going; it was away from that jerk with the syringes.

...And then they _weren’t_ moving, and there was a male voice speaking quietly in her ear. It wasn’t the Dark Elves’ language, but that didn’t necessarily mean she understood anything he was saying either. She opened her eyes gingerly and had an impression of bright sparkling blue, like the ocean. She was placed gently on the ground and when her eyes focussed she realised two things. That they were out of the Dark Elves’ lair and in a hallway; and that _this was what a real elf looked like_. “Hello gorgeous.” She mumbled as she took him in. His fine eyebrows, crossed in concern at the moment. were dark, as were his lashes. His hair was bright and pale like moonlight somehow unlike the dark elves’ stark white strands. He looked far healthier, that was for sure, somehow more alive. And he was softer, his lips cherubic and his ears coming gently to a tip, rather than the far sharper pointed ears of the others...And there were his eyes. They were bright and blue and clear, reminding her of water. She felt better already, or maybe that was just the lack of movement. He said something gently in a concerned tone, and she gave him a shaky smile, for all she had no idea what he asked. 

She was about to say something when he placed a finger on her lips, and reached behind him for something...An arrow. Dude had had a bow and arrows. He was a legit, _real_ elf like one of Clint Barton’s wet dreams. Darcy sighed quietly. Dude was going to be _so_ jealous. There was a moment where he stood gracefully and drew his weapon, holding completely still in the dim light while Darcy watched through half closed eyes from where she was laying limply by his feet. Whoever was coming had clearly missed them however, as he put his weapons away and pulled out a jeweled silver flask instead and unstopped it. He held it to her lips as he supported the back of her head gently with the other hand. She took two sips before he pulled it away. It tasted like sunshine and rainbows and waterfalls. His lips quirked up at her dreamy expression and stowed his flask before picking her up easily once more. She wrapped her arms around his neck, avoiding all the gear he had back there (there was so much) and trying not to pull on his soft hair (it was so soft). He started running again and Darcy closed her eyes, burrowing into his shoulder. She had no idea who this guy was, how he had got here or where he was taking her, but she was willing to take her chances with him considering the fact that he smelled really, really good and he _hadn’t_ been trying to destroy the universe a few hours ago. She drifted to sleep again, lulled by the movement as the Good Elf stole her away.

...

Legolas was glad of the woman’s changed position as he ate up the yardage between them and daylight (such as it was). Lopt’s apparition was long gone, as he needed to finish healing before he could move. And move they would. Legolas was thanking the stars that he had fallen in with _Palurin_ _Raanedir_ , the one man alive who could walk between worlds; or he and the maiden would have been stuck here indefinitely. He was more than done with this place, this home of Dark Elves. Their quarters had been sterile and lifeless, smelling of artificial things and stagnancy. He wanted to be gone.

Eventually they came to the entrance and Legolas breathed a sigh of relief. He paused to reacquaint himself to where Lopt’s body was and instead saw him walking, a black smudge in the distance with sand blowing from his form in the wind. He set off towards the god and their means of escape.

...

Loki climbed into the battered skiff that had already done one interrealm hop this day. They would do a few more before the day was out. He barely winced as he strained his wounds even though no one was looking as he climbed in and started her up gently pushing the rudder downwards. He smiled as she moved easily, barely making a noise. Battered but not beaten.  She was a little knocked around by the journey there but whole enough to get them away. He flew down to meet Legolas who easily leapt into the boat with a grace that Loki had always envied, laying the girl down before knocking an arrow and loosing it in one swift action and felling a pursing dark elf. He loosed two more before they were far enough away to be safe. He then turned to Loki who gave him a winning smile, knowing full well what a sight he looked caked in gritty dirt and blood. “Greetings, old friend.” He offered and the elf laughed, a singularly pleasant sound and one Loki had missed though he schooled his expression not to show just how much.

“You look awful.”

Loki raised his eyebrows but chuckled, his wounds smarting with it. “Yes, I suppose I do; but I am alive.” He looked down at the unconscious woman, who Legolas had wrapped in his cloak due to her near-naked state. “Why must there always be an unconscious mortal in this boat?” He wondered aloud and sighed, steering towards the nearest Doorway, which unfortunately lead to Muspellheim, but that was just the kind of day he was having. Legolas gave him a confused look, to which Loki supplied, “It’s been a terribly _long_ day.” He flexed his hands on the rudder, thanking the Norns he wasn’t bound this time round. The elf shrugged and sat at the bow, watching the black and grey landscape flash by placidly as if this wasn’t his first time on a flying in a skiff. Loki grinned at his back. The elf had always been rather unflappable, even in their younger days. 

They crossed into Muspellheim about an hour later; Loki truly thankful that it was after their three suns had set, and he angled them toward the doorway to Alfheim. There was an old ally there who was best suited to help the girl and who Legolas would be interested to meet he was sure. The blonde elf offered him some Cordial and he accepted; taking a few sips of the life giving drink made him feel brighter. As he watched watched him gently wake the girl and offer her some from his flask he thought on the Cordials that elves made. They all did, their recipes differing completely and yet they all managed to uplift and bring a certain brightness where there had been despondence before. It was rather remarkable. In all his years Loki had never been able to replicate it. He smiled to himself. It probably included starlight in the recipe or exposure to a certain moon. Elf magic was entirely its own thing and a simple frost giant halfling couldn’t begin to understand such things. One could certainly try though. The lass fell back into her deep sleep and Loki watched her with a little concern despite himself. The creatures had infected her body with some complex combination of medicine and magic and he wanted to know what precisely they had done. He sighed as trickles of sweat trailed paths under his leather clothing. Their priority was to get off this burning red rock first.

 After a little while Legolas spoke up. “Where is it that we are going?”

A side of Loki’s mouth twitched. “You didn’t think to ask before we left?”

The wood elf shrugged. “I can trust you.”

Loki chuckled darkly. “You’d be one of a very few in the nine realms who still does.” He motioned towards the girl with his eyes. “She will not thank you when she finds herself in my company that is for certain.” The elf’s eyebrows crossed and Loki enjoyed his look of confusion. _Such_ innocence for someone so old. “Much has happened since we last saw one another Legolas. Almost all of it unhappy.”

The elf stilled and his eyes held many stories. “In both our lives then.” He said, quietly and Loki shrugged. He supposed Middle Earth couldn’t have been at peace for long. There were too many conflicting forces in one place grappling for power. Others fought just for the right to thrive, Thranduil’s people among them.

“In answer to your question, this is Muspellheim, but we are headed to Alfheim, where you will meet my _other_ favourite elf, whom I have known far longer than I have known you.”

Legolas nodded, and Loki thought he could see the tiniest hint of trepidation. And with good cause, Loki mused as they sped towards the green realm. He had met his first elves outside of Middle Earth this day and found out what he had come from; not a comfortable revelation. He made a note that he would have to give him a thorough history lesson before returning him home. It was singularly unsettling knowing you were born of monsters: Loki knew it well. Gratefully, Legolas wasn’t of the temperament that Loki was, for all his father Thranduil and Loki shared many traits. No, Legolas was strong as an oak and pure as a woodland stream. The type of heroic that Thor could only dream of being. Or maybe Loki was just biased from having to spend millennia with the blundering blonde god. It would be curious to see the two in the same room, if it didn’t mean that he would have to reveal that he was alive and well to his brother he might arrange it, just for the mischief of it. As it was, Legolas would be getting the barest tour of the nine realms that Loki could get away with.

After a very long night of flying they drew near to the door between worlds just as the suns peaked over the horizon. Bone tired and more than relieved, Loki called for Legolas to brace. The Elf’s laugh drifted back as he sped straight at a cliff and Loki smiled at the reaction. Maybe he would keep the elf around for a while after all.

'don't hit it, just press it gently'

(gifs via teacuphiddles (which is an excellent handle) on tumblr.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> because I couldn't help myself, I published the beginning of another WIP I've been working on. it's got a really long title but you know how it is. [I Didn't Mean to Make You First Lady of the World, but While We're on the Subject I think You'd be Really good at It.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6312214)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our trio fly away into the sunset, Darcy meets a growly Loki and Loki is a bit of an asshole. Legolas is like 'Why are you being an asshole?'

The realms Legolas had come through during this long day were as varied as one could imagine. beyond, even, if he were to admit it. There had been the realm of men, with their towering buildings and noise and smell that had made Legolas dizzy to be in it. There was a realm with planes of grasses like Rohan, complete with equines both intelligent and beautiful. There was also a cave troll on that world which Legolas had left with injuries enough to allow for his own getaway. Then there had been the blackened and scarred realm where he had eventually found his marks and destroyed them, finally completing his mission. The fact that he had then decided to rescue a mortal damsel from an unknown fate and escaped with Lopt in a wondrous flying boat was still sinking in. The next realm, Muspellheim had been unbearably hot. He had asked to stop and camp, worrying for the freshly injured world walker and the young woman, but the _Palurin_ _Raanedir_ had shaken his head though by now he was barely hiding his exhaustion, telling him they needed to be gone by sunrise. With the heat rising up to meet them from the baked earth Legolas could only shudder at the thought the punishment three suns could bring. And so they sailed through the night.

This current realm was like coming home to Legolas. Though there were many details that were different to his own, the amount of green and the advanced age of the plant life made him more comfortable than he had been since he had leapt through the void what felt like lifetimes ago. The air was sweet too; a genuine pleasure to breathe and Legolas took in lungs full, enjoying the scent of the trees whose canopy that they flew over, joined for a while by a flock of birds.

Presently, Lopt was angling the boat over a river, coasting just a little over the water and Legolas found himself breathing a little more easily. He was still in a strange land on a strange mode of travel but he was on a little more of a sure footing. He had no doubt that feeling was only an illusion and that he would be on the back foot again soon so he enjoyed the respite while it lasted.

They 'sailed' along the river for some time, the sun setting over the horizon and the stars slowly coming out overhead. Legolas counted four moons rising thickly in the sky, but Lopt quietly informed him there were seven in all. Legolas smiled in wonder, his neck craning to take in this beautiful if alien sky. Their atmosphere was different and seemed to glitter almost quartz-like to his eyes. The effect was beautiful indeed.

It was still several hours before Lopt angled them towards the shore and they alighted in order to make camp. They quietly moved a little ways into the forest where a smaller stream fed into the river they were sailing on, both men lost in their own thoughts. There Legolas went about building a fire while Lopt went to finally bathe and cleanse himself after a truly long day after leaving some mage lights floating about the clearing.

Legolas turned then to his charge, the young woman, unwrapping her gently of his cloak. She was as beautiful as a fabled princess or enchanted damsel in a tale of Men. Chestnut curls spilled out under her. Her skin was porcelain pale and her lips red as if stained by cherries. Even injured as they were they were beautiful. Thick lashes fluttered as her blue eyes opened and as she had done the previous time she woke she stared for a moment. Legolas, caught in his act of perusal blushed a little, the tips of his ears warming. Truly he had not spent much time with mortal women in his long life at all and was ill equipped to deal with them.

...

“Sup pretty boy.” Darcy rasped at the beautiful elf hovering above her, concern written across on his features. She was pretty fucking sick of waking up in strange places, but the company was a damn sight less creepy this time round. She tried for a winning smile as she stretched her leaden limbs but didn’t know if she was very successful. It had sort of tuned into a wince and a groan as her head and every generous inch of her body ached like a bitch. She curled into herself, trying to will away the pain. The elf spoke softly in illegible elfy language and propped her up to drink some water, which she did a little too enthusiastically, spilling some down her front. She looked down at herself and realised she was still in that see through shift the techno elves had dressed her in and frowned. Her ample breasts were free of any support and hung heavy either side of the wide V of the neckline. She looked up at the elf who was looking away while she was having boob time, and crossed her arms over her ample chest. She cleared her throat awkwardly before asking “You didn’t manage to find my clothes, did you?” With a crooked smile.

The elf of course had no idea what she was saying and she slumped, though the dude kindly wrapped her in the most luxuriously soft cape she’d ever seen in her life. She smiled her thanks, tugging it around her like a blanket and he closed it at her neck with a pretty leaf shaped clasp. She looked around at where they were; glad she had gone with the 30 day contacts at the optometrist the last time. She took in the trees that looked like they might have been from earth, for all they were bigger than any tree she’d ever seen and looked more than a little primordial. Then the sky smashed any remaining hopes that they were home away. The elf too looked wonderingly at the pink ether and twinkling stars and Darcy sighed. He clearly didn’t live here either. Her eyebrows crossed. “If this isn’t your elfy home then how did we get here?”

“ _I_ brought you.” Sounded out in smooth baritone behind the elf’s shoulder. As he turned to look Darcy saw exactly who was speaking and whimpered a little as he stood intimidatingly tall from where she was lying on the mossy ground. Somehow his dripping wet hair and the barely healed wound on his bare chest did nothing to take away from the power he emanated through every pore.  

“Loki of _fucking_ _Asgard_? That was _real_? I thought I was being haunted by a ghost or at the very least delirious! what the fuck?!” She scuttled away backwards, nearly tripping on the elvan cloak she’s been gifted with. She pulled it around her again, aware of her near nakedness in a way she just hadn’t been with the elf.

A dry chuckle greeted her actions. “Not _quite_ yet” He said and she had the irrepressible urge to punch him in the face. Too bad her legs were jelly at the moment so she stayed where she was with her back to one of the massive trees.

“Have you ever seen Thor cry? I have. When he told us you were dead. Again.” She spat.

Loki only rolled his eyes and glared at her. Of _course_ he’d seen Thor cry he grew up with the guy. “Well then he might have checked, mightn’t he? Perhaps if he had then he wouldn’t have left me for dead in the middle of a sandstorm on that gods-forsaken rock with you, the elf and those _monsters_.” She quieted with a frown, because as much as she hated to admit it, the guy had a point.

“He was a little concerned with trying to save the universe. Maybe he was planning on coming back?” She said in a small voice, looking at the ground.

Loki shook his head and water flicked dramatically with the movement. There was a storm of emotion on his face that told Darcy she should have stayed quiet while she was ahead. “If he was coming for you would he not have been there to rescue you from those Dark Elves? Truly woman, _where is your hero now_?” He spat viciously and she bit her lip, regretting it when she reopened the wound. He gave a dry chuckle, still on his rant. “He’s probably still off rutting with his mortal. Mayhap they haven’t even noticed your absence in their reunion while you barely survived through an attack by a vicious magical beast and kidnapping at the hands of an ancient and cruel species. No, he left me for dead and he left _you_ with the likes of _me._ ” All the blood left her face as her recent past was brought to the forefront of her mind again. Her lip trembled and two fat tears trailed down her cheeks as she tried gallantly not to lose it in front of the biggest asshole in the universe.

The elf wasn’t too happy with Loki as he followed their conversation without understanding. He frowned, those perfect brows coming together in a knot. He asked Loki something quietly, and the god replied in like, perfect Elvish. The blonde turned back to her and wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs, dabbing at her bleeding lip with a bit of cloth. “ _Av-'osto henig”_ He said, but she had no idea what he was saying. She swallowed her tears with effort. The elf turned back to Loki and said something else to him.

The god sighed, brushing a curl out of his face in frustration. “He’d like you to know that you are _perfectly_ safe with us, and that we will get you home ... eventually.” The Prince said begrudgingly.

Darcy sniffed and asked “Where are we?” She couldn’t keep the quiver from her voice. The elf gave Loki a stern look and the other prince sighed as he crouched and started preparing a number of fish skilfully. Darcy was impressed but guessed when you’re old enough you can learn just about everything there is to learn. Especially when you’re as smart as Thor said his brother was... and as much of a snob.

“We are on Alfheim-the _other_ elf realm.” He said, before she could interrupt with a question. “You’re the first mortal to step foot on this soil in a very long time- And _before you ask_ , we are going to see an old friend of mine who can tell us what those creatures _did_ to you.” He grumpily added. “It’s best to find these things out before dumping you back on a realm without the kind of knowledge or technology to aid you.”

Darcy tried to curl up tighter and her muscles complained loudly. “It’s not like what Jane had, is it?”

There was something dark and frightening in Loki’s eyes when he answered “No.” And turned back to his preparation. The elf had disappeared, but came back presently with a number of berries and armfuls of foraged leaves and mushrooms. Loki picked through them, getting rid of some of them with a pointed look to the elf before throwing them far away. He picked up one bundle of herbs and his face softened as he crushed them in his large hands and put them into the fish before he placed them over the fire. It was dark despite the floating orbs scattered around and hard to see, but Darcy was pretty sure the fish were _floating_   above the fire, a trick that made her widen her eyes with envy. Loki caught her reaction and looked confused, the expression far softer than any she had ever seen on him. It made him look younger somehow. she turned away, not knowing what to do with a Loki who wasn't evil or possibly crazy.

As the fish cooked the elf bullied Loki into letting him check out that nasty wound. He used herbs and some stuff from his pack to make some sludge, then spread it out over the holes in his chest and back. Loki was grouchy to his face but Darcy spied his relief once the poultice was in place. Maybe it had some form of painkilling element. She closed her tired eyes as the elf started to massage Loki's back and neck skilfully, the prince occasionally grunting with pain as knots who knew how old were wrestled into submission by the blond's strong fingers. So, Loki would live to see another day and she had to be relieved. She hated the guy, but it was pretty hard to maintain that kind of emotion when he’d kind of helped save her life and was taking her to some kind of genius science elf to see what was done to her. She shivered, and tried to think about something else.

Relief came in the form of the sweet blonde offering her some fish to eat, served on a leaf like in Polynesian countries on earth. He settled next to her to eat his own and she was glad for the company. Loki ate by himself quickly and then lay down with his back to them. She didn’t begrudge him; dude just flew them for who knew how long with a giant hole in his body. The fact that it left her alone with the better company wasn’t too bad either. Not that they had too much to talk about.

She turned and pointed to herself and said “My name is _Darcy_ , what’s yours?” She pointed to him.

His lips twitched and he pointed to his chest and said softly, “ _Legolas Thandruillion_.”

“Legolas?” He nodded and smiled. She quirked a grin too.

“Darcy.” He tried. She nodded, liking his lilting accent and with a chuckle they both went back to eating fish with their fingers. She hated to admit it, but it tasted _amazing_. She scowled at her meal. Trust Loki to be good at everything.

Soon after dinner Legolas encouraged her wordlessly to bed down on a patch of moss -that she swore hadn’t been there before-snugly wrapped in his cloak. He sat beside her looking out and away from the fire, his bow across his thighs as he cleaned some of his arrows carefully. She thought she wouldn’t be able to sleep after such a terrifying day, but he reached over and placed his hand on her forehead gently, the pressure making her fall away into sleep. Her last thought was a muddled something about beautiful magical dudes with long hair.

(I don't know who made this pretty gif because I found it on pinterest and it linked to a blog in a different language. if you made it please let me know and I will credit you!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh, I'm so glad to be off of Svartalfheim. Also a rumpled curly haired Loki is one of my favourite things in this world. Especially because I believe he is totally a perfectionist despite being the literal god of chaos and hates having a hair out of place. He loves being perfect while everything goes to shit around him. Also he's a momma's boy who was always pristine despite his mischief and Thor always got busted for wrecking his stuff. It's a thing. 
> 
> ...So the words Legolas says in this chapter are apparently Av-'osto (don't fear) Henig (child) I got these things from a phrase book on the internet though so who the fuck knows. 
> 
> So I'm an idiot, right? I am the type of 30-year-old who still thinks gifs are magic and doesn't know how to use tumblr for shit, so it should be no surprise to anyone to learn that I only just discovered the stats page on this site.... Soooo I thought that bookmarks included subscriptions for the longest time because I didn't see any subscriptions thing and I thought there were only 19 peeps following along which was totally awesome... but there's like sixty of you getting this shitty little tale in your inboxes each update? what the fuck? 
> 
> Anyway all that to tell you that comments are love and if you wanted to let me know what you like about this story or head-canons or whatever I would totally appreciate it. 
> 
> And also to thank you, because that's a really good feeling you guys just gave me... Or really I just gave me because you were probably there the whole time, it's like finding five bucks in your jeans pocket... This is a fic that I have had to wrangle a lot, I've written and rewritten this shit so many more times than I usually do with these things and I still don't think it's all that good...The fact that people read or subscribe to my work at all still surprises me to be honest. 
> 
> So yeah, THANKS!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wander through the woods. Grumpy Loki is grumpy, but he is still a gentleman.

They had risen early the next morning, Lopt looking somewhat rested though nowhere near enough for the type of wound he had suffered only a day ago and the amount of magic he’d obviously extended. Even so, they packed up their simple camp and ate from Legolas’ foraging work the evening before while they hiked. After a short conversation they decided that Lopt would carry their charge as she slumbered deeply. He didn’t seem to mind the burden, and Legolas was relieved to have the access to his weapons that he needed. He was foremost a scout, and he was most useful when alert and ready. Not that the _Palurin_ _Raanedir_ seemed worried or concerned by any threat in these woods. As he led the way, effortlessly cradling the girl curled up in his arms, untangling her wandering fingers from his hair with a low growl for the fifth time since they started; he was alert, but not tense. Even so, he knew this world and Legolas did not. As such, the elf could not fully relax.

Legolas was concerned with the amount Darcy was sleeping and he’d see Lopt frowning down at the brunette head curled against his chest from time to time also. He followed his old friend deeper into the forest and hoped that they would find his friend, the sooner to find what ailed the fragile mortal girl.

...

Legolas was silent during their hike through the forests of Alfheim and Loki wasn’t complaining. He had always enjoyed the elf’s quiet and steady presence far better than many of his more talkative companions over the years. With the type of power the Lady they were heading towards yielded, these woods were safe, the only reason Loki had allowed himself sleep and food the night before. Despite this the elf was on guard, his bright eyes taking in every detail of their walk. Thousands of years of habits were hard to kill, after all.

Even so it was a lovely walk. The canopy above them was thick, though nothing like Legolas’ home forest of Mirkwood. Here, sunlight danced down through the treetops, delightfully lighting their way. The trees were ancient, and as such they were quite large, the trunks thicker than five men shoulder to shoulder in width, and their heights were glorious indeed. Even Loki’s near dead heart was moved by such a sight. The under story was easy to walk through and there was much to forage, which to Loki’s fond amusement Legolas did, slipping many a morsel into a satchel slung on his side as they walked. Spotting a crop of fungi of the most delicious kind, Loki himself paused in his tracks.

He lay down his burden on an available patch of moss and picked a goodly amount of the morel, knowing their host would be delighted by the find. Cutting to spread the spores of his picks to make sure more would grow in the future; he offered them to Legolas who smelled them with bright eyes. He may be far from home but the elf still had a stomach and a tongue, and treats like these were still treats. As Legolas added them to his satchel Loki stirred his sleeping burden.

“Hey handsome.” She sighed softly, causing Loki to look sharply at her, bemused. Wrinkling her nose and rubbing her eyes, the girl came fully awake, and her expression immediately grew weary. Loki relaxed. _There_ was the appropriate response to his near proximity.

“You need to stay hydrated.” He said firmly, and pressed a canteen into her hands. She nodded and sat up with a groan.

“Where are we?” She asked as she opened the canteen and drank deeply of its contents.

He shrugged. “The same forest as before.”

Legolas pressed some berries into her hands, amazingly whole and unblemished despite their transport. He was a wood elf, after all. They had many ways to keep water fresh, food whole and paths short and smooth. She smiled her thanks shyly and Loki suppressed rolling his eyes with difficulty. The girl was already enamoured, as she would be, with Legolas’ soft moon bright hair, rosebud lips and liquid eyes full of all that is good and pure. If Loki could hardly resist those charms a mortal child would be little able to deny him. She snacked on her fruit, content as the two had seen her since her capture and Legolas came to sit near the god. “Lopt, why does she fear you and not me? She looks at you as if she knows you -and fears you.”

Loki sighed, cursing Odin, Thanos and highly perceptive elves. “I am not who I once was, or thought I was.” He offered bitterly, but wasn’t surprised when the elf only raised an eyebrow. “She knows me for the monster I am, Legolas.” He only shone his bright eyes on him and Loki turned away, not caring to see what such light would reveal. “Let’s move on, I’m eager to see the end of this walk.” He hoisted up the girl, who squeaked in surprise, but did not bolt, like he thought she would. She only pulled the cloak around her.

He frowned _._ Of course _,_ he thought. The girl was near naked under that thing. Those creatures didn’t even allow her the dignity of clothing. He thought for a moment as he gently put her back down on her bare feet, thinking about his stocks of female garb and pulled a simple gown from his interdimensional space, blue star silk spilling over his hands. Once again, the girl didn’t hold back from showing how impressed she was with such simple magic. He tried not to let it affect him.

...

Darcy held the dress, the soft fabric slipping through her fingers, surprised and thankful for the opportunity not to be so scantily clad in front of these two intimidatingly beautiful beings. “Thanks Loki.” She said, not quite able to work up a smile but he nodded regally and the two men stood a little away with their backs to her, one looking to the east and the other to the west as she shimmied out of the Dark Elves’ naked dress and considered the garment in her hands. It was a beautiful navy blue and mostly made up of layers of some fancy Space!silk that fluttered weightlessly in the breeze as she held it out to step into. The bodice however was mostly made of the supplest leather she had ever felt before with some strange fastenings in the back carved out of a black bone-like substance. She slid into it, bemused at the thought of Loki owning a dress that a) would fit _her_ rack and b) was made to support boobs and not flaunt them. She glared at his back. Dude was super weird but she was just glad she didn’t have to be naked anymore. When it came time to fasten the back she coughed awkwardly. When Loki turned she waved her hands and cringingly asked if he could help a sister out. He rolled his eyes but walked over, nimble fingers making very short work of the alien clasps. Darcy didn’t know what she expected but Loki never once touched her skin in the process of getting her clothed. The bodice was tight, but the support was amazing, the sturdy leather front and back taking the weight of two G-cup breasts with ease. She found her smile for that. Support for boobs like hers was no joke. “Thanks Loki!” He nodded, totally fed up with the moment and turned, calling Legolas to follow. As he passed the elf smiled at her, saying something quietly as he picked up her discarded shift and put it in his pack. She still had no idea what he was saying, so she shrugged, taking it as a compliment and they followed after the grumpy god.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK so this week I read yet another fic that listed Darcy Lewis as having DD cup breasts. I always wonder about this because though I don't make it a habit to think about actresses breasts, writing Darcy has brought it up quite often. Like, is the cup sizing different in the US? Because I'm pretty sure me and Kat are the sameish size and I haven't been a DD since high school, which is a solid 15 years ago now. And yeah, in highschool DD was HUGE, but here we're looking at a solid F or G cup in Australian sizing terms definitely. Is this a thing that anyone knows about? All I know is that anytime anyone writes Darcy as that tiny size (relatively!) I wince visibly and worry over the writer's boob health and get distracted from the fic. ( so here is a friendly PSA! Please go get sized properly! The old ladies who do it for a living have a tendency to be awesome and will look after you without making it awkward! I know good quality bras are expensive but take it from one broke lady to another: this one is worth investing in. Your back and boobage will totally thank you and your sweater puppies will end up looking better than ever!)
> 
> this PSA was brought to you by Kat Dennings cramming her boobs into tight spaces.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a little one today.

They set off, the two taller beings having to slow their pace considerably for the little mortal. Loki reigned in his impatience, knowing that carrying the girl in his arms would almost definitely mean that she would talk to him. As it was she was tripping over her skirts anytime she had to step over something, which in any healthy forest was often. She didn’t have the ease of Loki or Legolas’s long legs, and the long dress wasn’t helping. After half an hour Loki grew fed up and abruptly pulled her to a stop and pulled scissors from the air. He softly pressed the dull edge to a spot over her knee, knowing this was a suitable length on Midgard at this time and she eagerly nodded, allowing him to cut away the starsilk layers and allow the tiny woman to move. If he hadn’t spent much time as a female he wouldn’t be so aware how freeing this was- but he had. He’d spent decades at a time in female form in various wanderings when it suited him to do so and knew quite intimately how much difference hem length and breast support made to movement and muscle strain. Though he saw how incredibly curious the girl was he declined to educate her on this matter. His ability to shape shift was something he kept close to his chest. Originally it was the prejudice Asgard held for such an act that meant he kept it a secret, though later he had learned just how helpful it was for no one to know. Odin knew of course. He had seen Loki change as a babe when he was first held by the hot blooded child thief. The extent of his talents however, he was ignorant of, and Loki enjoyed playing him for a fool more than he liked almost anything else.

Once the fabric was stripped away they moved on, the ever pragmatic Legolas deftly rolling up the good length leftover and putting it in his pack. The pause had aided their journey immensely, Darcy easily able to step over things and manoeuvre over any great fallen logs in their path with their aid. And now the pace quickened. If it still wasn’t the swift lope through the forest it had been that morning it was passable for that of a mortal barely passed her majority. She didn’t complain or dawdle but silently kept on, much to Loki’s relief. Several hours passed before he could see her energy flagging whereupon Loki swooped her up with an impatient sigh and they carried on. The girl wrapped her arms around his neck to make it more comfortable for them both and swiftly fell asleep, lulled by the movement of his loping gait. She wasn’t unpleasant to hold, Loki mused. With her soft cheek nuzzled into his throat and her curvy body moulding to his easily. Her temperature that morning had been pleasantly warm, unlike the Aesir who run hot, or the Jotunn who run cool. This afternoon she was far warmer, her skin flushed and her hair wet with fevered sweat. He frowned down at her and huffed in impatience as her tiny fingers played in his unkempt hair in her sleep, reaching back to untangle her hands. Legloas laughed in amusement. He was already well acquainted with the cuddly little creature. Loki had awoken to see her practically wrapped around the elf in her sleep that morning.

Legolas interrupted his musing with a frown at the girl. “Her scent has changed.”

Loki sniffed, but couldn’t tell what he was speaking of.  She simply smelled like a mortal to him, she smelled of fear and exhaustion, even arousal; and whatever concoctions she had used to wash her hair last. In his true Jotunn form he would probably be able to tell but it didn’t matter. The elf had noticed. “Changed how?”

Legolas shrugged, grimacing slightly as he tried to describe the phenomenon. He too walked over placing his nose close to the sleeping girl’s hair behind her ear delicately smelled her again. He gave Loki a comically befuddled expression. “She...smells...more...like an elf?”

Loki frowned, concerned for what such a change portended. He looked down at the girl. Barely more than a child. “We will be there soon, and hopefully we will be able to find some answers.”

The two long legged beings once more made swift time, eating up the miles easily. Loki had seen Legolas at full pace in his home forest which was much harder to navigate and knew they were at nowhere near that speed. Even so they made it to their destination just as the sunlight was fading, true to Loki’s calculations.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They find Loki's friend and finally learn precisely what was done to Darcy and friends, it 'aint good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MEMO: Hello kittens! this is just a note to tell you that this is what Eve looks like:
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> but this isn't crossover. while she acts like Eve in OLLA she isn't her. she's a very old elf who Loki has known his whole life. 
> 
> ALSO *SQUICK* WARNING: Loki thinks the tiniest bit about something he _didn't_ do on earth during the invasion. Its not graphic but the r word is used. Take care!

They stopped on the outskirts of a wide, idyllic clearing through which trickled a delightful stream, the chatter of which lightened Legolas’ heart. He smiled as a small deer wandered through, approaching Legolas to Lopt’s amusement. He heard the _Palurin_ _Raanedir’s_ chuckle as Legolas knelt to greet the beautiful doe.

He was _almost_ startled as before him a building appeared where there was none a moment ago. True to elvan design the stream cut through the building, though it bubbled happily enough as if it was undisturbed. It was unlike any building he had ever seen however, looking reminiscent of as a giant pearlescent shell coiling pleasantly into itself. The sides were near translucent causing it to glimmer prettily in the golden dusk light. Legolas smiled at such a lovely sight.

Presently the door opened and an elf _far_ older than Legolas emerged. The younger elf stayed on his knee and bowed his head in greeting with a smile, his hand still on the little doe’s neck while the _Palurin_ _Raanedir_ strolled over to the tall figure.

She stood as tall as Lopt and was rather wild in appearance with her hair courser than any elf that Legolas had ever seen. Where all the elves in his acquaintance had silken locks braided and well cared for hers was messy and completely unbound, veiling her pixy features like a halo. She smiled widely at the sight of them, and when she spoke her tone was wry and easily affectionate towards the dark haired prince. “Loki Odinson _is that you_? What in the _branches_ are you doing _here_? Aren’t you supposed to be buried away in your father’s _prisons_?” As with the other elf on the dark realm Legolas could only _just_ garner her meaning when he concentrated, and he filed _that_ information away for later.

Lopt passed him their sleeping companion before he embraced the woman easily and answered her quietly, though Legolas easily heard him. “Eve. I am not; as you can very well see. In fact these days I am supposed to be _dead,_ though I suppose that word hasn’t reached your little spies yet.” He smiled crookedly, his demeanour roguish and cheeky; a complete change from his shadowed countenance during their journey so far.

The _ellyth’s_ eyes trailed over Lopt’s form and took in his somewhat pallid features and stiff bearing. He hadn’t been able to scrub away all of the dirt from the dark realm either, and with the mortal’s constant playing with his hair in her sleep that day the usually impeccably presented prince looked entirely bedraggled. She nodded, though Legolas could see she didn’t approve. _“_ And _who_ is this handsome _ellyn_? A wood elf? Can it be?”

Legolas bowed as well as he could with his current fragile burden and smiled cordially. _“_ Indeed. I am Legolas Thranduillion, Son of the Elvenking of Mirkwood, my Lady _.”_

She looked positively delighted, and Legolas found he was once more a curious novelty. It seemed he would always be, even on realms not his own. She was more polite than many had been in Rivendell or the Golden Woods however. Not feeling quite so much the bumpkin as he always did in Elrond’s presence. “So Loki’s tall tales of the tenth realm were _true_ after all. It is an honour to meet you, my Prince. I am Eve, welcome to the Blue Woods of Alfheim. And who do you have there?” She eyed the bundle of hair and limbs in his arms with a raised eyebrow, her nostrels flairing as she took in the girl’s altered scent. Legolas blushed on behalf of Darcy, for Lopt wasn’t the only bedraggled one in their party. The girl’s jaunt through the woods that afternoon had left her with dirt on her feet and twigs in her hair. While Legolas found it charming he supposed it was a little shocking to elves who had little to no experience of how incredibly messy mortals could become in their travels.

Legolas frowned slightly at the question. “I know not, as we could not understand one another. She, as I was brought to a foreign realm through the convergence of worlds. I know her only as Darcy.”

Lopt interrupted to explain. “She was taken by surviving Dark Elves and treated against her will with their potions, though I do not know what. Lady Eve, I was wondering if you might be able to find out.”

She frowned at the dark haired _Palurin_ _Raanedir_ and narrowed her eyes at him as if trying to figure something out; but she ushered them inside, directing Lopt to go and clean up immediately, and not listening to his complaints and excuses. She then regained Legolas’ attention, which had been taken with the fact that this building was quite significantly roomier than it had looked on the outside. It wasn’t quite startling, Legolas had seen many queer things in his time, but it was noteworthy all the same. She gave him a knowing smile that held quite a bit of mischief and lead him down a coiling hallway into a bright chamber whose main item of furniture was an opalescent plinth in the middle of the room, the dying light of the day seeped through the walls and illuminated every last corner. This was augmented further by moonstones and star stones scattered about. “Place the mortal on the bed if you will Legolas.” He carefully arranged the girl on the bed and gasped as a violet apparition appeared glittering above her form. He backed up to allow Eve to attend to the girl _._ She clicked her tongue quietly. “Oh she is _very_ young, probably only twenty five in Midgardian years.” Legolas raised his eyebrows. In Middle Earth that would bring her only just passed her majority, though the different mannish cultures held different beliefs about that kind of thing. The Lady continued to examine her, moving her hands to manipulate whatever it was that the apparition depicted and her face grew more serious with every moment. Eventually Lopt re-entered the room, looking much better for a bath and wearing a fresh forest green tunic and leather hose with no shoes. He must be comfortable indeed with their Lady host to preset himself in so casual a manner.

Eve turned to him and said sternly in a language he didn't understand **. “** _Loki they have altered her genetic makeup permanently_.” Legolas didn't know what she spoke of but her sharp tone didn’t bode well.

The taller man pushed a hand through his wet curls. “ _What do you mean? In so short a time? How is that_ possible _?”_

She shrugged. “ _It is happening slowly. The change will come on over the coming weeks. That is not all though, nor the most evil thing they have done.”_ Legolas smoothed the girl’s tangled hair from her face gently; concerned about whatever they felt he should not hear. Lopt’s expression changed to one of inquiry. “ _Soon she will go into heat. If she does not become pregnant with an elf child she will die._ ”

Lopt’s face fell. “ _It is what I feared then_.”  His tone was cold, distant. Legolas raised his eyebrows in question and Lopt sighed. “They toyed with her physical make up.” He shrugged sadly. “She will go into a forced _ellyth’s_ heat... Which would be why she smells more like an elf.” The last part was said thoughtfully, but it was clear he was upset by the news.

Legolas reeled, physically stepping back in shock. He was well aquatinted with such evil deeds by now, people who would play with lives so. Sauroman having mixed Ork and Goblin to make the Urak hai, as well as the beasts of the forest that had been morphed as the evil of Dol Guldur prevailed upon the once green wood’s of his beloved home. He knew it was possible, but it was remarkable how swift they were able to do such a thing, and such a vile act to be forced upon an innocent mortal, a mere babe in the world.

A heat would be _incredibly_ traumatic in this scenario. Elves’ hearts, souls and bodies were less separate than other races, their physiology was directly affected by what was happening in their hearts and their magic. Those of elfkind such as he and Eve would go into heats or ruts only once their heart, soul, body and magic had been joined so fully with their life’s love that they were fully ready to beget and raise a child together. A couple or triad would have known one another for many centuries and built up a well of trust and love which was necessary for this extreme time of almost mindless want and lust.

...For a mortal without a lover or anyone that she loves or trusted so it would be heart wrenching and bring so many consent issues to the table that Legolas’ head swam. He gripped the plinth to steady himself. “How soon? Is it preventable? We cannot make her go through that! Please!”  To be honest Legolas would rather die than be forced into a rut with someone he didn’t know. He hoped there was something that could be done.

Their Lady host shook her head, looking at him apologetically. “I understand your distress young Legolas but these are complex workings that the Dark Elves invented long ago. We thought them dead and gone, lost with those that died in the war but as usual that was too much to ask.” She sighed, looking haunted for a moment. “Nevertheless I will try to figure something out. I may at least be able to prevent her from dying without a pregnancy, as I’m sure she will not want to mother a half-elfling at this juncture.” Legolas swallowed, dismayed. “In the meantime, I will set her up here in the healing wing. Young Loki here will lead you to your room so that you may bathe and rest. You are a welcome guest in my realm and my home Legolas. Please, go and rest. Your lovely mortal damsel is safe in my hands.” The younger elf nodded, bowing his head.

“Thank you, Lady Eve. I don’t know what I would have done without your help.”

Her expression grew haunted again. “You would likely have been pulled into a forced rut, bonded with her, and your Mirkwood would have been blessed with a halfling heir.” Her words rocked him more than any others had. Lopt and Eve had saved them both much grief.

He bowed his head. “I thank you for helping prevent that future.” He said, before fleeing the room. He jumped when Lopt clapped a hand on his back. His distress had been so great that he hadn’t heard the _Palurin_ _Raanedir_ follow him. _“I-“_ He stilled. He had no words.

“Come, Legolas, a bath and some meditation will help you regain your equilibrium.” Legolas nodded and let the other man pull him away.

...

Loki had in his long life seen very few elves in shock. They were naturally a very optimistic race. Their magics were connected to the earth leading them to be prone to joy and lightness of being in general. Sure they grieved, and lived to see many things that brought a deep sadness, as eve had shown just before but they had a love of beauty and grace that made them seek joy where it would be found, no matter how simple or small.

However currently before him was one such. Legolas had been startled indeed to hear the possible outcome of the Dark Elves’ potions. Loki now saw why their unexpected ally had intervened on the mortal woman’s behalf. What they did and intended to do went beyond even rape, an act Loki at his worst could never bring himself to do. He had thought about it, in those dark days when the influence of the tesseract, the mind gem and Thanos’ vile second The Other had rendered him almost entirely another man. Gratefully he had retained enough of himself to hold out against that prospect and many others that that had drifted over his mind which, at the time had been _unbelievably_ susceptible to suggestion. Bile rose up in his throat at the memory. He sighed as he pulled Legolas into a room that had been set aside for him and sat him on the silken bed while he turned and filled up the bath. As water reacted with light to create a myriad of sparking illusions all over the room he mused that had no idea why he was serving the elf so, or even aiding that pathetic mortal woman; but there was something about Legolas that made him want to be a better man. He resented that pull when it came to his brother or others of his ilk but somehow with Legolas he didn’t- which in turn frustrated him even more. He sprinkled scented bath salts into the steaming water and the air filled with the fragrance. He turned back to the elf who was watching him tensely with a hundred yard stare. Other than shock, Loki recognised his current expression as guilt. He had worn it often enough. The difference was that _he_ deserved to.

“My friend you’ve done nothing wrong.” He chided in Legolas’ native language. Those liquid blue eyes rose to meet Loki’s and the god idly thought that they could very well be the death of him.

 _“_ But I might have, and I wouldn’t have been able to control myself.” He said with a full body shudder, his eyes looking over Loki’s shoulder into a future that would never come to pass.

“Yes. And then you would have spent the rest of her life caring after her and the child, and she would have had the best lover a mere mortal woman could ever wish for. A far better future than if you had left her in the hands of those monsters. But _it won’t happen_ , and you will not have that burden of guilt.” The elf grimaced but nodded at Loki’s logic. The black haired prince had had a thousand years to deal with Thor’s tantrums and moods far worse than this after all.

Loki pulled Legolas up and pushed him toward the bath gently. “Soak, friend. Wash the cave troll and the spider from you and then come downstairs and eat. That morel we picked today will bring a smile to your face, I promise.”

The elf nodded again, starting to pull off his weapons, which he hadn’t yet divested himself of. “Lopt?” The god turned back from his place at the door. “Why does she call you Loki?”

He gave a wry smile. “Because that is my _true_ name. I’ll tell you the story soon enough.”  The elf only nodded and Loki pulled the door behind him.

...

Legolas stripped and lowered himself into the opalescent bath which sang with colour wherever the light hit, sighing at the heat despite his solemn mood. He raised wet hands to undo his braids and then lowered himself completely into the water, relishing the generous size of the bath and the delightful herbal salts on his muscles. Sure, he had been far more exhausted in his life, and could have gone on for months of the same pace before growing too weary. However it had been a twoday of new, strange things and he could quietly admit to himself that he was a little overstimulated. He could smell the moss and the forest and hear the water sing of the journey it had taken to get here and he closed his eyes and laid his head back, letting the warmth and scented steam do its good work as he listened to its happy tale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, posts are probably going to slow down for a bit. I'm having a little problem with writers block the last few days, I'm sure it won't be too long but I just wanted to let you know.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eve figures out the real reason Loki ended up on her doorstep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little one today

Loki lay under the Alfish soul forge with a beleagued sigh at Eve’s prodding. The mortal girl had been moved into a magical stasis chamber in another room in order to hold off the Dark Elves’ evil potions until they could figure out a solution. The poor soul was lucky to have earned the illustrious and ancient elf’s rare attention though at the moment she was far from aware of the fact. Loki wondered if, just as the beatific wood elf had ensnared Loki’s help with those bright guileless eyes he had so garnered Eve’s allyship. There hadn’t been a mortal on Alfheim for many a century and in these ancient woods far longer, and yet here they were, frost giant, wood elf and mortal girl. A most eccentric combination.

The elf tutted as she examined his wound via soul forge and Loki winced, for he probably should have asked her to look at it himself rather than wait till she inevitably called him out on his obvious exhaustion, his stiffness of movement and the even occasional grimace of pain that he failed to suppress. As it was there wasn’t all that much she could do at this stage. “You did a thorough job, Young Prince. It seems your lungs and organs are all intact. The young _ellyn’s_ herbs have also helped with inflammation and avoidance of infection.” She tutted. “Such a sweet boy.”  She said softly before she gave him a stern look. “Your magic will take a while to come back in full though.”

Loki nodded. This he knew. It wasn’t the first time he’d brought himself back from the brink of death after all.

All was quiet as Eve worked the soul forge. Loki closed his eyes, still strung out from the last day’s activities. When the silence went on, however, his eyes flicked to his host through the forge’s projection. She was frowning, sifting through scans of his mind with graceful movements. He swallowed at the sheer scale and complexity of what they were seeing. She clicked her tongue. “And I suppose you’d like help removing these geas and blocks from your mind then Loki?” She looked down at him with pale eyebrow raised. “You know you didn’t need to use the girl to get through my door, hmm?” Even a being such as Loki couldn’t hold against her sharp stare. He blushed. “Though I suppose you, prideful thing that you are wouldn’t very much like to admit just how much you were struggling in front of your handsome young friend.” She chuckled, amused.

Loki cleared his throat and tried to pretend to himself that he wasn’t blushing even a little. He looked instead at the scans glimmering above him. “Is it that terrible?” He asked, feeling like he was two hundred again and caught in her potions cupboard while she and his mother were busy talking shop in the other room.

She gave him another sharp look. “Loki, you’re a mess of near _catastrophic_ proportions. Not only do you have too many geas on you to function even close to properly, but your magic and mind have wound their way in a table around them- which, by the way, I have _never_ seen done to this extent. But there is just... layer upon _layer_ of scarring here. Years worth of damage. To _cripple_ yourself in such a way! Though I understand why you saw the need to.” she tsked and moved the scans around, still seeking out the extent of the damage he’d willingly done to himself to find a way around Thanos’s thorough work. “And just _what_ did your father think he was doing _throwing you in jail_ when you were in such a state?”

Loki shrugged and growled “That man is _not_ my father. I’m no longer surprised by any of his actions.” He winced as he heard the petulant tone exiting his own mouth.

She tsked once more and examined him for a little longer before tapping his shoulder. “Up. _Now_ Young Man. We’ll speak in my office.”

He sat up and looked at his mother’s oldest friend and confident a little nervously, knowing what was coming. She pushed him out the door and led him to her study where she bodily shoved him into an ancient looking silk covered wingback chair before crossing the room and sitting regally on a lounge of her own. “Now.” She started calmly, locking his gaze with her own. “Why don’t you start from the beginning, hmm?” She asked as she waved a hand gracefully and the stones about the room glimmered to light. “Thor was going to be coronated. If I remember right (and I always do) he wasn’t. That was the last time I saw you, looking handsome and _far_ less exhausted. Speak, Loki Odinson, and if I sense a lie you _will_ be sorry.”

Loki sighed and tipped his head back, gathering his thoughts. He should have known this would happen, but he honestly didn’t know where else to go and if he was honest with himself he couldn’t keep going the way he had been. He was bleeding magic chronically by this point, which was dangerous for anyone he was around. He was in constant magical and physical pain and only barely holding on mentally. He had even -for just a moment- thought about letting go and letting himself die back on Svartalfheim. Only the memory of what happened the _last_ time he’d followed through with a thought like that had stopped him from giving up. He was Loki. He was chaos. He was fire. He was relentless. And so, with a sigh he straightened and began his tale. “I don’t think I was the only one who knew that as he was, Thor was going to be a _terrible_ ruler....”


	12. Chapter 12

Legolas had bathed and dressed in the soft clothes laid out for him by his host’s seemingly invisible serving staff. They were different to his realm’s styles, but not so different as to be unrecognisable. Most importantly, it was all clean and groan-worthingly comfortable. The fabric, in lilac and mauve hues was finer than even his skilled people or the artisans of Rivendell could weave, made from a material he didn’t recognise. It shimmered with movement, almost blending in with the opalescent environment around him. Leaving his feet bare and braiding his hair in a simple rope down his back, he slipped back down stairs and saw not a soul. Bemused, he wove his way back to where he last saw his host.

This room too was empty. The soul forge, as Loki had called it, was empty of a body and yet an image remained flickering above it. It was blue, this time, and in Loki’s larger dimensions. His hunch was proved by the wound cutting jaggedly through the middle of the image, shown in pink and red where he knew Loki’s wound to be. Studying it, he realised once more just how close to death Loki had been.

It was easy to see, in the short time Legolas had spent with him on their journey that Loki had been much changed since their last meeting centuries ago. His manner with the girl hadn’t been foul, nor his intent evil but her reactions to him had been visceral and immediate, like a prey animal before a predator. The worst part was that Loki hadn’t begrudged her, saying that it had been the correct and reasonable reaction. He moved along to the image’s head, where it was a mess of colours. There were gashes of red, purple, green and black and in places a sickly yellow; as well as etched blue and white lines here, there and everywhere that wove paths through his head. Some looked like wounds and scars and others looked like ribbons that joined his neck and threaded down his back. Streams of green mist leaked out in several places; his fingertips and eyes and mouth, disappearing into the air around the projection. Legolas was perplexed, but the image made him shudder all the same. He schooled himself to let it go. He knew not what it was he saw and Lop-Loki wouldn’t appreciate the invasion of his privacy.

Instead he spied an open door at the other and of the room. In this room, quite similar to the other, young Darcy lay. She was laid above another cushioned plinth-like bed which was high to give people of Legolas’ (or rather, Eve's) stature the ability to see her without bending too far. This was not what caught his attention though. What really drew the eye was that Darcy was suspended, floating above the bed, immersed in a cloud of pink mist which moved swirling about her as she breathed it in and out. He saw her chest rising and falling, and spied her pulse throbbing in the veins on her delicate wrist and throat, so he knew she lived, for all it was an eerie picture. Her lush hair floated out around her and her still healing lips were open just enough to show the gap in her teeth.

It was strange with mortals, how it was often their irregularities and differences that caused them to be so beautiful and interesting. Aragorn’s scruffy beard and scattering of freckles, Eowin’s dimpled chin and tangled hair. This gap in the teeth was one such thing for Darcy. Her smile would be lovely without it, but with it she was beguiling, and it aided the air of mischief she had about her. He knew Lopt- or Loki rather- was loathe to befriend a mortal, but Legolas knew the two would get along if they had the chance.

He sat on a chair left in the room and thought back to the way the surly god had cradled her in his arms just as carefully as Legolas had, allowing her to nuzzle into his neck in a decidedly familiar action. He had told the elf he was a monster, but Legolas didn’t quite believe that was the case. It would take a while to unravel, but he was determined to help his friend if he could.

“She is in stasis, sleeping until we can work out a way to help her.” Legolas looked to the door to see a stately elf with wild black hair. He wasn’t quite as old as Eve, but he was far beyond Legolas or Loki in years.

“Do you really think you can help her?” He asked quietly.

The elf nodded. “We’ll have to. The complex formula she was given will make her pheromones call out to any male elf in the vicinity. You, I, any other male in range will go into rut. It will be chaos and put her and others in significant danger.” Legolas couldn’t help the violent shudder that went through his body. Images flashed through his head of him and the elf before him fighting over the right to mate with an innocent mortal. It would be feral and could very well lead to someone’s death. “We have to at the very least reduce the range and the danger to the maid’s life. But yes, to answer your question. Eve has put a call out to some very powerful and intelligent people to help her find a solution. Your friend will be saved.”

Legolas released a breath he didn’t know he was holding and nodded. “I thank you.”

The _ellen_ nodded “Your Lady host is locked up in her study for the foreseeable future I’m afraid, discussing matters of some delicacy and import. She offers her apologies and has asked me to lay out you meal in your chambers. Will that suit you?”

He looked up. “May I eat in the forest outside?” The cottage was lovely but Legolas always preferred seeing the stars and the trees if he could help it. The elf nodded and left the room.

Legolas rose to follow him. Before exiting he paused in the doorway and looked back to the floating mortal. “ _Posto vae”_ He said quietly _. “Otto vae_ ” And with that, he slipped away, following his host.

...

It had turned out that Loki still could not tell his story very well at this point.  His mind and magic had found ways around each and every geas The Titan had placed within him, but they were powerful, and they had been set so that he could not tell either Odin or those on Midgard of their real peril at the hands of Thanos, but even so it was difficult to tell a tale that made any sense. His head hurt, his words slurred. Pains shot up his spine and his fingers ached. Eve heard enough, however, that she held up a hand and strolled to her door, where she called her assistant and lover of several centuries to her.

He was tall, dark and utterly beautiful, Eve's assistant Adam; and had been with her through all sorts of trials and journeys. She gave a list of instructions to the elf, brushed her thumb across his pale cheekbone, and then closed the door once more. “Alright, Loki. We’re going to go over this again, and I am going to ask you a number of questions. I don’t want you to stress or hurt yourself if you cannot answer. As I told you, I have asked a number of the very best healers in the nine to aid our little friend Darcy, and will ask them also to help me pull these knots and curses out of you and allow your mind and soul to heal these wounds.” At Loki’s expression of barely hidden fear she smiled sadly. “I know you will find it hard to trust them but it is _far_ worse leaving them in. Even _you_ can’t handle this kind of strain forever, and I’m not willing to sacrifice a great mind stout heart such as yours to that genocidal maniac. I will tell you that I will also be telling Odin of Thanos’ proximity. He will not know that it came from you or that you still live. _Oh_ I wish I had gone with my instincts and taken you in and fostered you so long ago, but your mother would have been so distraught and so I stayed my hand.” She muttered something about ‘that fool of a woman’ as she leaned forward stroked his hair out of his face and Loki relaxed at the contact. It had been a while since anyone touched him so-Since he trusted anyone to get that close.

“Do you think he will act?” He asked warily, beyond glad that it was no longer his burden to carry.

She sighed tiredly, and pulled away. “I cannot know your father’s mind. I never have been able to predict what someone of his proud, spiteful and deceitful nature will think or do. One can only hope that he will not repeat his earlier mistakes. I can only hope that all of your hard work will not be for nought.” She looked at him with narrowed eyes, her pale eyelashes sparking in the moonstones’ lights. “I expect that you have sealed quite a bit of information under all of those scars, Loki, and whether Odin picks it up or not, Alfheim and many of the other nine realms will listen- and act. And I thank you for your sacrifices and the sheer tenacity it took you to get here.” She peered at him curiously. “How were you going to come here if Thor hadn’t broken you out of prison?”

Loki huffed a dry laugh. “I could have walked away from that cell at any time, but it was good to see my mother. It was as good a place as any to get my feet under me before my next move.... and mother kept bringing me books about my ancestry. When your identity has been shattered like that, it pays to listen when someone wants to help you to learn who you are.”  

Eve’s expression held something even he couldn’t read while nodded her understanding. “Of course it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Sindarin phrases that Legolas uses are just a sweet little 'rest well, sweet dreams' type thing from a phrasebook found [here](http://www.realelvish.net/101_sindarin.html).

**Author's Note:**

> You can visit me at http://howdidthisevenhappenanyway.tumblr.com/ maybe.


End file.
